


Catalysts

by deanandsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Brotherly Love, Feels, Gen, Motel room, One Shot, season seven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28215453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanandsam/pseuds/deanandsam
Summary: Sam is going through a really negative moment, so bad that he wants to give up on everything but Dean applies his own brand of therapy.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Catalysts

'Hey!' Dean called as he entered the room, receiving an answering grunt from his brother who, unusually for him, was still curled up in bed with only his face poking out from under the covers.

'Breakfast is served, your highness! 'he announced, expecting a bitchy reply which didn't arrive.

' What's with you, Sam? You sick or something?' Dean asked, hoping that the answer was no. When his brother was ill, Dean felt more worried and afraid than when he faced down the worst of monsters.

He lumped the food on the little table and went to stand beside the bed. He put a hand on Sam's brow expecting him to swat it away with a piquant exclamation but there was no reaction from his brother and he pulled back awkwardly.

'Nope, no fever.'

Sam raised his eyebrows. 'I'm fine,' he frowned.

Dean huffed in disbelief.

'Remember who you're talking to, man. I could write an encyclopedia about you, and you're definitely not acting normally.'

Sam rolled onto his back and sighed.

"Don't you think you're overreacting? I can't lie in bed for an extra hour now, without you freaking out? You're getting to the stage of paranoia, Dean. If something does happen to me, and you know it can, what will you do then?'

Dean's preferred defense mechanism kicked in; denial.

"Huh, nothing's gonna happen to you as long as I'm around," he replied, unconsciously repeating the self-same words he had said years ago to his brother; but Sam remembered them just fine.

He looked up, searching out his brother's gaze, as he remarked. "You said that to me once before and I know you meant every word back then, just as you do now, but you can't keep that promise, Dean; there's just too much that can go wrong."

So saying, Sam turned, repositioning himself under the covers and giving his back to Dean, cutting short the conversation and leaving his big brother bewildered.

Even if it was Sam who currently held the gold medal for stubbornness in their two-man brotherhood, Dean was no slouch himself; he got up and circled the bed, abruptly pulling back the covers and plunking himself down, his eyes surreptitiously studying his brother's body for wounds or some supernatural phenomena, but seeing nothing.

"Dude, if you don't tell me what's going through that brain of yours I won't be responsible for my actions, some of which are really crappy."

He could see Sam's cheeks beginning to take on a pinkish tinge.

"Dean. Leave me alone. I just want to sleep. What's so strange about that? Go and have a fling with triplets or something!" 

"Dude, if I ever get the chance I will," Dean replied. "But right now I gotta use my energies for other things, such as torturing you until you share and care."

Sam stared up at him with enormous indignant eyes.

"You've got a freakin' nerve. Whenever I try to get you to talk about your feelings you block me dead, while you expect ME to bare my soul."

"Exactly. You talk and I listen. Period!" Dean smirked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

The red flush in Sam's cheeks flamed up even further.

"You think you're so funny," Sam said through clenched teeth. "You turn everything into a joke!"

He made to get up but Dean blocked him, his powerful arms pushing his brother back down while sighing. "Sammy, we've got a whole day coming up together in the Impala and I'd rather you tore me a new one here than inside my Baby. Something's happened to you otherwise you wouldn't be acting like this, so tell me, man, and let's end it."

"I told you it was nothing, Dean," Sam scowled. "I'm just tired. Tired of everything. Tired of being some modern Don Quixote tilting uselessly at windmills.  
Everyone's against us; Hell, Purgatory, Heaven. How can we two take on the whole of Creation? It's just impossible. It would be impossible even if we were both Superman. It's a fight we can't win. So what's the point of fighting? We're just as well curling up in bed and waiting till the end arrives."

Dean was used to his broody brother but rarely had Sam come out with the scenario of abandoning everything.

"Sammy,' Dean replied quietly, absorbing the raw emotion radiating from his brother. "I get it, man. I really do, but running away isn't the answer."

'No? You know what, Dean, maybe that's the problem. We've never run away! We've always gotten up and tried again, like two kids trying to knock down a steel wall with a couple of plastic spades.  
What if we've been doing it all wrong? What if disappearing off the face of the earth, as strange as it may seem, was the answer all along?"

"What are you saying, Sammy? That we're the catalysts who made crap happen in the first place?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Dean,' Sam grimaced in agitation, his eyes earnest. 'Us being around has saved the odd person but how many have died because of us too?'

Dean passed a hand through his hair.  
"Even if we'd wanted to, just when would've been the right moment for us to bail out, Sam? We've been up to our necks in shit since, I dunno, forever. First Mom, then Dad, then Cold Oak, Hell, Ruby, the Apocalypse, the Leviathans, When Sam? When, hmm?"

Sam's face fell but he had an answer for his brother.

"When my soul was in the Cage, it should have stayed there! You were with Lisa and Ben. Maybe you weren't as happy as you could've been but at least you had a home and a family. If Robo-Sam hadn't turned up, you'd never have started hunting again and maybe Castiel would never have managed to get Purgatory open and let the Leviathans out."

"But Robo-Sam DID turn up and I didn't know he was soulless. How could I ever have turned you away, Sam?"

Sam pulled himself up and loomed over his brother.

'Instead of going to Death and getting my soul out, you should have asked him to sent my body back into the Cage. That would've taken me out of the picture again and you could've lived a good long life with Lisa and Ben," he stated convinced

Dean felt his own cheeks beginning to flush with anger.

"Are you the King of the Morons or somethin'? I can't believe you're even saying this stuff. Maybe your little theory of us causing more damage than good is believable, but I don't care. It wasn't us who asked for any of it. We found ourselves up to our necks in shit because of someone else's big Master Plan, but as you've seen Sammy, their Master Plans have all failed and you know why?"

Sam shook his head and Dean could see the five-year-old he'd once been, who had needed his big brother's reassurance, staring out of the expressive eyes. And Dean was ready to give it.

"They didn't expect for us to care for one another as we do, Sammy. They didn't expect us always to be pulled back together each time we could, even when it should've been impossible. They didn't consider that your life means much more to me than my own; they didn't factor in how much I would be willing to do to keep you alive and in good health. They didn't predict LOVE, little brother.  
Love is what makes us win out against forces far superior, and love is what will continue to make us beat them all, Heaven, Hell and Purgatory combined, because what we share doesn't exist anywhere but here, in this scruffy motel room."

The tears were rolling slowly down Sam's cheeks as he listened to his brother's fervent speech. Dean rarely exposed his emotions but when he did he went the whole nine yards.  
Their eyes met and Sam felt the rush of love, optimism, and pure soul pouring into his being, banishing the negativity that had been hovering over him.

Dean had always looked after him, and Sam basked in the thought that his big brother always would.

"I guess, I could use that coffee now, " he said hoarsely, and without another word, Dean went to the table and brought the two cups to the bed, handed one to Sam, and cupped the other in his hands.

"It's not wine Sammy, but I'm still gonna make a toast. To us, the Winchesters, and may all who come up against us, crap out!"

"To the Winchesters!" Sam echoed, a luminous smile shining through the tears.

"Damn right, little brother!"

The End


End file.
